A messy, human-style title including 'neon night',

the city breathes in whispers, a place where shadows dance and sunlight flicks like static. i’ve stayed here long enough to wonder if people realize how much they’ve missed losing touch. the air smells like rust and regret, a scent clinging to memories half-remembered. here, time is a rumor, and every step echoes footsteps from someone who forgot their own name. it’s not a place but a state of being, a chaos that clings like a second skin, a reminder that everything unravels in the blink of an eye. i’ve returned twice, but never truly left, just like the city demands you do. its pulse is a thief, stealing fragments of what once was. this is where I find myself lost in the mirror, wondering who I once were.